


Single Caramel Voice (Pan Dulce & Polvorones)

by hamilton_BAE23



Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Bart Allen has Panic Attacks, Crying, M/M, Mental Breakdown, My First Work in This Fandom, Not necessarily a ship fic but squint and it's there, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamilton_BAE23/pseuds/hamilton_BAE23
Summary: Based off a sensory detail and imagery prompt I had in creative writing, I present to you Bart Allen having a mental breakdown-- over what? I have no idea.Oh and Jaime's in it!(Slightly vague since it focuses on the imagery of the breakdown rather than telling much of a story. But read till the end and you might like it.)





	Single Caramel Voice (Pan Dulce & Polvorones)

Bart sat there, frozen as ice and as limp as a puppet without a puppeteer. 

His chest was constricting like a python around his torso, and every raspy breath felt like fire and bee stings.

He felt the need to curl up on himself like an armadillo, use his armor to keep everything out.

The world around Bart began to blur like a vintage and shaky polaroid and he could barely hear the gut-wrenching screams of terror around him; they could’ve been simple feathery whispers. 

His mind reeled like a ferris wheel on the loose, sending earthquakes throughout the rest of his pale, sickly limbs. 

Titling down to attempt to block out the overwhelming stimulus, brought his hands to his ears as makeshift ear muffs. Knees came up to hold his chest, get it to stop hammering. 

Bart was finally in the armadillo, rolly polly position he needed to be in. Didn't stop the clenching of his muscles as he willed himself to come closer, to be wrapped up as tightly as a Christmas gift. A Christmas gift that had no bow, and no fun surprise inside just the haunting dread of oncoming instability and insecurity.

He was too busy trying to enfold that he hardly noticed the salty, wet teardrops and how they left behind a trail of salt and wet as a snail would leave behind a trail of slime.

A quick brush of the hand to get them to go a way wouldn’t work, it simply made the tears splotch all over his cheeks.

The rubbing made angry marks over his fair skin, unable to go away when he continued to smear his tears.

It certainly didn’t help that yucky snot began to lazily drip down his nose.

The sleeve of Bart’s shirt wasn’t gonna last much longer. It was scrunched, soaked, and now snotty.

Bart couldn’t stop processing, if only he had a second to shut his brain down, stop think--

“Bart?” A single caramel voice cut through. One word, one person and something tore the dreadful veil off, popped a bubble, and Bart’s thought’s were terminated.

A soft, tan hand was put on Bart’s knees, and he contemplated it before he glanced up through his clumped, moist lashes.

And with a singular look at chocolate eyes, Bart could take in the scent of sweet and doughy pan dulce and polvorones waft off of the boy before him. The scent half masked by pungent but aromatic and slightly sweet cologne.

The longer Bart stared at the dark eyes, the longer he caught a whiff of the aroma that followed the dark haired boy before him, the more it seemed that Bart’s inside were becoming fuzzy as the world around him began to come into crystal focus again.

Although Bart’s eyes never left the chocolate ones, Bart’s surroundings seemed to have turned up in brightness like a computer screen.

Bart’s eyes refused to leave the eyes before him but everything else demanded his attention.

With slow movements, as though regaining the ability to walk again, Bart’s glance flittered throughout the room. Nothing important to see, Bart could simply come to the revelation that his mouth tasted like metal, and that the saltiness of his now paused tears were also making their way to his partially open mouth.

The creamy voice whispered once more, pulling Bart back in like the tide.

“Bart? Are you okay?”

Bart believed he might flinch as though he’d touched a burning pan, but the voice was too subdued, too tender, and too meaningful to leave him as a frightened, threatened cat.

Bart calmly lost himself in the warm sugar brown eyes that gaped right back at him.

Bart didn't reply. For he didn’t have an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time every actually posting my work on here, much less posting work for this fandom. I love Bart Allen with my life and I hope you guys enjoyed this! :)


End file.
